Thursday, January 15, 2009

Here's how it really happened . . .

MommyJ and I are posting our own versions of this story concurrently. If you haven't already read her side, click here.And since this is about our childhood, MommyJ will henceforth be referred to as ChickyJ, and myself as InkChick.

When I was in the eleventh grade and ChickyJ in seventh, we got our first home computer that had a color screen and a non-dot matrix printer. It was great . . . way better than the green-on-black dinosaur we were used to using at home. I remember being so thrilled with myself because I used the computer to type up Advanced Biology assignments in various fonts. (Don't say it . . . I know what you're thinking. Did this girl actually have any friends?!? Yes, and some of them were even boys.)

We didn't have any fancy games, but we still managed to become obsessed with beating each other's high scores on the ones that came with the computer: Pinball, Solitaire, Minesweeper, and, best of all, Pyramid.

Do you know the game I'm talking about? All the cards are laid out in a pyramid shape, and you have to match up pairs that add up to thirteen until you clear the board. Not all of these games are solvable, but ChickyJ and I played it enough that we began to learn which ones were the easiest to complete and then race against each other's best times.

We would spend HOURS doing this -- hours of, I would argue, quality time because up to this point, ChickyJ and I had not exactly gotten along very well. I guess Mom didn't limit our play because at least we were doing something together, which was uncommon.

We whittled our times down second by second, one besting the other until, finally, I achieved what I believed to be the fastest time possible: 9 seconds. I was looking forward to serious bragging rights because, of course, you could record your name in the high scores, indelibly stored (not really . . . you could reset them) on the hard drive for all posterity to see. But rather than simply inputting my name, I decided instead to humiliate my sister, and I typed, "I love you, ChickyJ!" Or at least, I though that's what I keyed. What I actually typed was, "I loce you, ChickyJ!" I didn't notice the typo before ChickyJ who, quick as ever, hit "Enter", indelibly storing evidence of my imperfection instead of a record of my superiority.

Now that I remember all this, I wonder why I've kept saying "I loce you" all these years. It wasn't exactly my best moment, but it just sort of stuck.

That year of computer novelty appreciation was the beginning of the turning point in the relationship between InkChick and ChickyJ. She moved into my room, and we started having conversations that didn't start with, "I didn't say you could borrow that!" We began the VERY long journey of sisterly appreciation -- one that didn't fully come to fruition until years later when ChickyJ got married and we began to have something besides genetics in common.

That year, we started other strange traditions, like every time I would come home from a date or a rehearsal (oh, yes, the rehearsals) or whatever, I would lurk at the door to our room and, breathing through my teeth in my deepest James Earl Jones-esque voice, say, "Luuuuke . . . I am yohr fah-thuh"; and dramatic scripture reading that would have entertained all of you, I guarantee. We were only an orchestra short of a full on oratorio.

Now, ChickyJ is MommyJ and she is my very best friend. (Don't read this, CPod. Or InkySnark, who is our mother. No offense intended, but nothing beats a sister!) I cannot imagine my life without her friendship. On vacation last week, I didn't even talk to her once and I thought I might go through withdrawal.

5 comments:

I loved both of your stories so much. I don't know how you both have the power to make me get choked up with tears pooling and in the very next breath have me laughing out loud. I feel incredibly blessed to know you both! (And now I am going to copy and paste this comment on your lovely sister's blog. Cause I'm a genious when it comes to saving time. haha.) Or maybe I'm lazy.

By the way, I totally had a crazy dream last night that must have come from reading your last post. We were going to Disney World together with our kids. I was stoked! I've never been. Anyway, we were finally ready to go. Your hair was huge (I think that part came from an old "Friends" rerun that was on last night.) Then my son started coughing and you decided you did not want to risk getting your kids sick and we were uninvited. (Which came from a conversation I had last night with Lew. The sick kid part/not an uninvite). Are you following this... nevermind.Next time we have a girl's night I think you and MommyJ should act out a short story from the scriptures. You can be our entertainment and spiritual enlightenment all at once.

As an only child, I've enjoy reading both of your version and reassuring myself that childhood without siblings is not so bad (actually for me, it was pretty good) but life as a grownup ... not so sure but I think I could of use a sister at certain moments. Thank God for the cousins and close friends that I can count on though.

Dark screen and green fonts, how could I forget that ha!! Sounds sooo old, like the dinosaurs had it, right? I remember playing chopper on that old computer ... ha ha ha ha ... good memories!

Love the story! I'm glad to finally know the meaning behind the word. I love the ending. I hope my kids grow up to be best friends forever and ever. Even if right now they just kick and pinch each other.

Aren't sisters the best? I loved my sisters before, but since we've been mom-less we've really depended on each other and supported each other through everything. I worried for so long that my oldest would never get a sister because that just seems so terrible to me!

Pennies from heaven . . .

To Comment, or Not to Comment?

I write for personal enrichment. It forces me to use my brain, improve my vocabulary, focus my energies, and exercise my talents. Even if there is only one person out there besides my blood relatives who reads a word I've written, I want my writing to be as clean and polished as possible for that one person, and for myself -- because I am a bit of a perfectionist, and because I have found that it is a singular pleasure to go back to old posts and reminisce about what my kids were doing, or what I was thinking about. I am grateful that even though I can't remember what was happening in my life six months ago (precisely) I have recorded something of the thoughts and events I was experiencing then.

I also read for personal enrichment. Sometimes I comment, sometimes I don't. But I never (can I say it louder? NEVER) comment just because I want someone else to comment on my blog. I would call that insincere. I would call that fake. I would call that a bit too much like middle school for comfort.

I comment when I feel moved to comment; when I have some valid question, or an answer for someone else's; when I feel inspired by someone's post, be it hilarious or harrowing or heartfelt. But I don't not comment because I disliked something. Sometimes it's just the opposite, and I feel like anything I could say would seem trite next to the extremely wonderful post I've been reading.

I expect the same of you, dear readers! Don't comment on my blog just because you want my comments. You may or may not get them, and if you do, it will have nothing to do with reciprocity. The only thing that will get me to comment on your blog is content.

So. I write for me. I read for me. Sometimes I comment. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I get comments. Sometimes I don't. But either way, I'll still be writing. And either way, I will have many happy days of reminiscing and remembering in the future because I had the wherewithal to write down some stuff about my life.

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About Me

You can call me InkMom (as in I'm Not Crazy Mommy, except with a K instead of a C because I don't want to be IncMom). I have been happily married to CPod since day one, which was just about 12 years ago. We have three little boys: G-Dog and ConMan are twins (they are 4), and Lil' MayDay just turned 3. We recently welcomed some more diversity into our family when baby girl Miscellany joined the crew.
We live in beautiful western North Carolina, and we love it, and we will never leave because I go through separation anxiety when I think about residing some place outside of these mountains. I am a mom, a musician, a teacher, a bookkeeper, a writer, a housekeeper, a scullery maid, a thinker, a runner, a daughter and a sister . . . but you'll learn all that eventually if I keep posting and you keep reading.